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<title>Five Reagans To Meet in Heaven (and Three in Hell) by listentothewordsyousay</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619880">Five Reagans To Meet in Heaven (and Three in Hell)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentothewordsyousay/pseuds/listentothewordsyousay'>listentothewordsyousay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blue Bloods (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:28:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/listentothewordsyousay/pseuds/listentothewordsyousay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny Reagan loves a funeral (it's the Irish in him).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Danny Reagan/Linda Reagan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Five Reagans To Meet in Heaven (and Three in Hell)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Danny Reagan loves a funeral (it’s the Irish in him). </p><p>Well, he’s not so fussed about the rosary, necktie and long sermon bit, but the pints in the pub afterwards, that’s the ticket. He can stuff his necktie into his pocket, drink three more than is strictly necessary and shoot the shit with the old timers and the rookies like there’s no tomorrow.</p><p>He’s under no illusion that when it’s his turn, he will be going straight to hell, and he’s only slightly regretful about that. </p><p>He reckons that he’s not the only one though.</p><p>He looks across the bar. Grandpa’s holding court with the vets. Danny’s sure that his Pops will be down there in the flames with him, the old rogue that he is. He raises a glass to him and the old man nods back, approximately twenty five minutes and one finger of Scotch away from chorus and verse of Danny Boy. His father sits just adjacent, tie still firmly in place, as it will be when St Peter will wave him into the golden circle, back with Ma and Joe, no questions asked.</p><p>He’d like to see his Ma again.  Old Mrs Venucci down the block used to say that three boys caused enough trouble to get a mother automatic entry into Heaven. Danny is nothing but honest, so he’ll admit he caused the vast majority of the trouble. He’s also sure that she’d catch him right on the shins with a wet teatowel (at the very least) for what he’s been up to since she passed, so all in all, maybe it’s best they’re in separate lanes.</p><p>Jamie likes to sit with the old timers, still baby faced at thirty, always his mom’s favourite. He’s listening intently, never butting in, never speaking out of turn. Straight into Heaven he’ll go. He catches Danny’s eye and frowns. Danny lifts his beer to him and he relaxes again. He’s never at ease with Danny, not the way he was with Joe. </p><p>Joe is still too painful a subject to consider, so he takes another gulp and considers the score; that’s four to Heaven and two to Hell. </p><p>Erin’s sitting with the old timers too. She’s always been a Daddy’s girl, desperate to be one of the boys. Despite the good posture and expensive clothes, he reckons her name is down for the bad fire, with a rap sheet that goes back to her crazy high school days. The two of them had suffered through many a Sunday Mass in silent, nauseous sympathy, and he reckons tomorrow might not be any different, judging by the vodka tonic in front of her. </p><p>He laughs and throws his arm around Linda’s shoulders. He is drunk, but he knows she is an angel, in more ways than he can count. She looks at him and he swears she can read his mind.  He kisses her forehead and pulls her in tightly. ‘If I go first,’ he says, ‘don’t believe any of the stories Vinnie here tells about me.’ </p><p>The only unfortunate bit is that the stories will be likely true, because Danny Reagan knows that Heaven isn't on his cards.</p><p>He shrugs. </p><p>He'll make a good funeral.</p>
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